CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(Monographs) 


ICMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographies) 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductio.is  /  Institut  canadien  de  microreproductions  historiques 


I 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  'his  copy  which 
may  be  bibliographically  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 
checked  below. 

□    Coloured  covers  / 
Couverlure  de  couleur 

□    Covers  damaged  / 
Couverlure  endommagee 

n    Covers  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Couverlure  restauree  et'bu  pelliculee 

I Cover  title  missing  /  Le  titre  de  couverlure  manque 

I I    Coloured  maps  /  Carles  geographiques  en  couleur 

□    Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)  / 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

□    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations  / 
Planches  et'ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

□    Bound  with  other  material  / 
Relie  avec  d'autres  documents 


□    Only  edition  available/ 
Seuli 


jle  edition  disponible 


I       I    Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion  along 
' '    interior  margin  /  La  reliure  serree  peut  causer  de 

I'ombre  ou  de  la  distorsion  le  long  de  la  marge 

interieure. 


n 


Blank  leaves  added  during  restorations  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have  been 
omitted  from  filming  /  II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages 
blanches  ajoutees  lors  d'une  restauration 
apparaissenf  dans  le  texte,  mais.  lorsque  cela  etait 
possible,  ces  pages  n'ont  pas  ete  filmees. 

Additional  comments  / 
Commentaires  supplementaires: 


L'lnsiiiut  a  microfilme  le  meilleur  exemplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
ete  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  cet  exem- 
plaire qui  sont  peut-etre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  image  reproduite, 
oc  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modification  dans  la  metho- 
de  normale  de  tilmage  sont  indiques  ci-dessous 

Coloured  pages  /  Pages  de  couleur 

I I    Pages  damaged  /  Pages  endommagees 


D 


Pages  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Pages  restaurees  et/ou  pelliculees 


0    Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed  / 
Pages  ddcolorees,  tachetees  ou  piquees 

[         Pages  detached  /  Pages  detachees 

I  /■•'[    Showthrough /Transparence 

□    Quality  of  print  varies  / 
Qualite  inegaie  de  I'impression 

I      I    Includes  supplementary  material  / 
! 1    Comprend  du  materiel  supplementaire 

I      I    Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata  slips, 

' '    tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to  ensure  the  best 

possible  image  /  Les  pages  totalement  ou 
parliellement  obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une 
pelure,  etc.,  ont  ete  filmees  a  nouveau  de  fa^on  a 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 

Opposing  pages  with  varying  colouration  or 
discolourations  are  filmed  twice  to  ensure  the  best 
possible  image  /  Les  pages  s'oppcsant  ayant  des 
colorations  variables  ou  des  decolorations  sont 
filmees  deux  fois  afin  d'obtenir  la  meilleure  image 
possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below  / 

Ce  document  est  filme  au  taux  de  reduction  indique  ci-dessous. 


10x 


14x 


18x 


12x 


16x 


20x 


22x 


26x 


30x 


24x 


lO 


28x 


32x 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

National    Library  of  Canada 


L'exernplalre  fiim6  fut  reproduit  grace  ^  la 
g*n*rositd  de: 

Bibliothcque  nationale   du  Canada 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  be»t  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibiiitv 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printe      laper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  fron.  .    lot  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printer     .  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  piinted  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  thu  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  framn  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — ^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc..  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  largo  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  ore  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  ma.iy  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t4  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin.  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nenet6  do  Toxemplairo  filrn^,  et  en 
conformit*  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
fiimage. 

Les  exemplairos  originaux  dont  la  coiiverrjre  en 
papier  est  imprimAe  sont  film6s  on  commencant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  p.ir  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  una  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'iliustration.  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autros  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  film*s  en  commenpant  par  la 
premiirfl  page  qui  compone  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'iliustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  derniire  page  qui  comporte  uno  telle 
empreinie. 

Un  des  symbolos  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
derniAre  image  do  chaque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbolo  — *-  signifie  "A  SUIVRE '.  le 
symbole  V  sigmfio  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc..  peuvent  etre 
film*s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsquo  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  etre 
reproduit  on  un  soul  cliche,  il  est  film6  ^  partir 
de  I'anglo  supirieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droits. 
et  de  haut  on  bas.  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'imagos  n^cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
iilustrent  la  m6thode. 


MICROCOPY    RESOLUTION    TEST    CHART 

ANil  rjnd   ibO   Its'   CHART   Nu     2 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


i  3  2 


1.4 


1= 

2.2 
2.0 

1.8 


1.6 


^  APPLIED  IIVI/IGE     Inc 

=1  '653   Cast   Mam   Slr«t 

r-^  •Rochester.  New    ^oft*        lAf.rj^  .A 

^—  716)  482  -  0300  -  Phoie 

:^  '  716)  78S  -  Mm  -  ro« 


SONGS    OF    A 
SICK   TlAf-l  I  A! 


SKOOKr>f    <  III  CK 


i^idAUtfMuajMBaGimL^ 


i^Mi^^^^a^i^i^^ 


SONGS  OF  A  SICK  TUM-TUM 


4 


SONGS   OF  A  SICK 
TUM-TUM 


BY 


SKOOKUM  CHUCK 


3 

■ 

i 


m 


NEW  YORK 
THE  TOTEM  COMPANY 
1912 


CopYiioHT   lOlJ,   nv 
THK  ALICK  HAKI{IMAN  COMPANY 

All  Right n  HetervKl 


m 

Vi 


«»U'Job<S('f.i 


Dear  Reader: — 

In  my  estimation,  the  two  greatest  things  that 
have  ever  been  invented  are  paper  and  pencil  — 
how  else  could  we  record  our  thoughts  and  pre- 
serve them  ? 

I  may  say  that  all  the  verses  that  go  to  make 
up  this  little  volume  have  been  gathered  ac- 
cidently;  they  are  pickings  from  the  wild  hills. 
I  never  feel  more  happy  than  when  I  get  away 
for  a  time  from  the  cities,  the  towns,  and  the 
plowed  fields,  out  upon  Nature's  wild,  untrodden 
ground  and  undelved  plains,  among  the  un- 
trimmed  trees.  I  never  go  out  without  pencil  and 
paper,  and  I  usually  come  home  with  a  few  notes; 
the  days  I  go  without  paper  I  am  sure  to  tind  the 
greatest  treasures. 

In  connection  with  the  collection  of  verse  con- 
tained in  this  little  book,  I  beg  to  say  that  I  claim 
nothing  for  them  beyond  the  very  ordinary;  if 
they  are  read  in  the  same  spirit  in  which  they  are 
written  I  will  be  satisfied.  Or,  if  they  serve  to 
perpetuate  the  little  Yellow-bell,  and  the  lonely, 
exotic  thistle,  I  will  be  more  than  pleased. 

Skooktm  CiircK 


Contents 

PAGB 

Lost   and   Found 7 

The   Thistle 16 

Little   Yellow,   Yellow   Bell 18 

Dream  of  the  Optimist 20 

A    Poet   of    Man 23 

As    We    Are    Seen 25 

The   Poet 27 

Revelry 29 

The   Clallam   and  the   Iroquois 31 

The   World   and   Man 33 

Reed  Smoot 34 

The  Man 37 

Anticipation        38 

The  Owls  and  the  Biped 40 

A   Medium 42 

Faith 44 

To  the  Brain 46 

Liberty 48 

A  Lesson 5° 

The   Men  of   the   Petropavlofsk 52 

Borrowed        SS 

The  Cuckoo 57 

A  Death 58 

The  False  Heart 60 

The  Dead 62 


CONTENTS 


PACE 

The  Two  Brid:;s     .     .  , 

05 

A   Tale   Without  av   E\d ^g 

Mary's  Hoi.iday  ... 

72 

A  Gem 

7S 

Spring 

77 

To  Build  Ourselves  Anew -„ 

The  Cripple  a\d  the   Flower    ...  «» 

o* 

The   Re.vegade g 

The   Wild   Fi.ower 

The    Tita.vic 

Dreadnaught       ... 

97 

SUCCE.S3  ... 

99 

The  Traitor ^ 

The  Aspirant     ... 

104 


CE 
6S 
70 

72 
75 
77 
79 
ii 

59 

;3 

)5 
>7 
>9 
>i 

'4 


MM 


^^'^^^T^'^-^'^\^^^^'^r^'^Wf!^!^^;^^ 


SWte  SS!S*9»KtV"\»  ■ 


o 


Lost  and  Found 

NCl'l   oft    the   British   Cohimbia   Coast, 
Well  out  "t  sea,  a  ship  was  lost. 


And  in  a  little  island  bay 

One  of  the  shipwrecked  sailors  lay. 

He  had  been  cast  upon  the  shore 
Rv  wind  and  wave  that  on  him  bore. 

Vet  lingered  the  tenacious  soul 
With  the  weak  body  in  control. 

The   sun    restored   him,   heat  revived, 

He  knew  his  heart  was  strong,  and  thrived. 

Me  saw,  he  felt,  and  stranp^c  to  tell 
He  found  that  he  was  saved  and  well. 


He  blessed  the  earth,  the  sky,  the  sea, 
And  all  known  things  that  he  was  free; 

Forgot  his  torment,  and  forgave 
The  rock,  the  rain,  the  wind,  the  wave. 

7 


LOST  ASD  FOUND 

His  heart  expands,  his  face  reveals 
'ihe  praise  he  gives,  the  joy  he  feels. 

And  spoke  he  in   a  deep  glad  way 
All  that  a  mortal  soul  could  say: 

"  O  earth,  sweet  earth,  and  sand,  sweet  sand, 
And  rock,  and  reef,  and  lake,  and  land! 

"  O  stone,  sweet  stone,  and  sea,  sweet  sea, 
And  love,  and  life,   and  liberty! 

"  O  friend,  dear  friend,  and  foe,  dear  foe. 
And  peace,  and  pain,  and  joy,  and  woe! 

"  O  thousand  joys,  O  million  things 
That  life  conveys,  that  living  brings  I 

"  Or  is  this  some  Utopian  dream 

That  brings  such  glories  on  the  scene? 

"  Or  am  I  master  of  them  all 

At  my  command,  my  beck  and  call? 

"  Mine  to  enjoy  from  hour  to  hour, 
The  bird,  the  beast,  the  fruit,  the  flower? 

8 


;  A>j.;,«^y.».%V.V,\%> '  <W<i-TW4i| 


LOST  AND  FOUND 

"  The  forest,  mountain,  valley,  stream, 
riic  real,  the  true,  the  false,  the  dream? 

"  The  shrul),  the  tree,  the  grass,  the  vine. 
The  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars  —  all  mine? 

"My  own,  all  mine,  to  have,  to  keep, 
Aline   to   caress,   awake,    asleep? 

"The  good,  the  great,   the   grand  —  serene, 
That  I  have  passed  unloved,  unseen? 

"  I   did  not  know,  or  dream,  or  see 
That  such  luxurious  wealth  was  free. 

"  How  sweet  to  know,  how  grand  to  feel 
That  love  is  good,  that  life  is  real! 

"  I  love  you,   friends,   I  love  you,   foes, 
I   love   the   thorn   heneath   the   rose. 

"  Thou  wave  that  beats  the  lonely  shore, 
Sweet  is  thy  rage,  and  soft  thy  roar. 


"  O  sand,  O  sea,  C  wind,  O  wave 
Ye  are  the  masters,  I  the  slave! 

9 


LOST  JSD  FOUSD 

"  Thou  land  of  sunshine,   frcsli  with  showers, 
And  garnished  well  with  fruit  and  flowers  — 

"  Thou  land  of  wealth  unknown,  unused, 
Of   lavish   joys   and  smiles   abused! 

"To  live   among  thy  gladsome  things 
To  eat  thy  fruits,   and  drink  thy  springs, 

"  Is  all  I  ask,  is  all  1  care, 

Is  more  than   I  deserve  to  share." 

Thus  reconciled  to  all  he  knew. 

The  good,  the  bad,  the  false,  the  true. 

He  hugged  the  sard,  and  kissed  the  shore, 
And  grasped  the  waves  that  on  him  bore. 

So  full  was  he  of  love  and  praise. 
And  faith  and  hope  and  tenderness. 

Thus  spoke  the  new-born  man;  thus  rose; 
Thus  lived  his  friends;  thus  fell  his  foes. 


Privation  turns  a  stone  to  moss, 

Makes  flowers  of  thorns,  makes  gold  of  dross. 

10 


LOST  .i\n  roiM) 

But  hunger  told  with  chic  distress 
'l"hc  mortal   ol    his  riiortalness. 

IIo  must  get  food,  must  eat  and  ilrink, 
']"()   !i\e,   and   love,   aiui   praise,   anil   think. 

So  rose  he  to  his  feet  and  mo\-ed 
Along  the  lantl   as  yet  unproved. 

I  le  found  a  naked,  ragged  reef. 
Without  a  stump,  or  stem,  or  leal. 


I 


(ire  It  gems  of  lo\'C  are  thrown  away 
( )n  liearts  of  stone,  on  souls  of  clay. 

Great  wealth  of  trust  and  faith  ai     lost 
Among  the  ones  wc  clung  to  most. 

llis   dreamlanil   was  a    Paradise, 
I  le  found  It  hut  a  fiend's  device. 


There  is  no  truth  though  great  it  seem 
Just  like  the  fiction  of  a  dream. 

The  sweetest  things  we  know,  and  have 
Inherited,    are    sleep    and   love; 

II 


LOST  AKD  lOUND 

Tho^-c  mysteries  brcil  behind  the  dawn 
And   passed,   through   us,   yet  down,   and  on. 

The   ishind   laughed   his  hive   to   scorn. 
1  \c  ga\e  a  rose,  received  a  thorn. 

lie   asked    for  bread,    received   a   stone, 
He  oi  cred  love  and  hate  was  shown. 

I  le  wandered   here  and  there,  and  bore 
IVoiii  sea  to  sea,  from  shore  to  shore. 

But  not  one  drop,  ami  not  one  crumb 
IIi;  found,  for  all  was  dead  and  dumb. 

Not  one  green  speck,  one  fluttering  leaf, 
To  soothe    his  heart,  or  calm  his  grief. 

Nothing  to  love,  to  praise,  to  trust, 
Nothing  but  stone,  and  sand,  and  dust. 

No  bird,  no  beast,  no  flower,  no  tree, 
No  love,  no  life,  no  liberty. 

With  one  deep  groan,  betrayed,  marooned, 
lie  fell  unmanned,  unstrung,  untuned. 

12 


i 


1 


I 


LOST  .ISO  roisn 

••  I'arcwcU  thou  earth,  unreal,  untrue, 
Deaf  to  the  lot,  fair  to  the  few. 

"  I  ^a\  c  thee  all   I   IkuI  to  }j;i\(-'. 

All   I  eouKl  spare  I  roni  lite,  aiul  li\e. 

"  ( )  for  one  smile,  one  touch,  one  taste, 
One  \irtue  to  reileeni  this  waste, 

"  ( )iK-  crumb,  one  ilrop  helore   I   f^o. 
One  \()ice,  one  look  from  friend  or  toe. 


Y 


Yc  barren  shores  that  tercet  the  wa\e, 
our   stones  are  poison,   sands  a   f^rave. 


\c  wa\-cs  that  spit,  and  hiss,  and  tear 
Our  mission  is  to  waste  and  wear. 


"  "^'e  waves  that  laugh,  and  sing,  and  sigh, 
'^'our  smile  is  false,  your  song  a  lie. 

"  Thou  laughing  sky,  thou  sea,  thou  isle, 
I  hate  your  mirth,  despise  your  smile. 


"  Ye   grinning  waves,   thou   mocking  sea, 
Why  bar  the  world   from  mine  and  me 

13 


a)WNi«tv»Ol*«*i»"«*»<»(**'W«e*iS>*^'*^^ 


|--.?< 
h  ^ 


LOST  AND  FOUND 

"  O  wind,  O  wave,  O  surf,  O  sea, 
Let  me  to  them,  let  them  to  me ! 

"  O  crippled  heart,   and  hampered  brain. 
And  shattered  faith,  and  endless  pain, 

"  And  deep  soul-wound  that  will  not  cure, 
I  low  long  remain?  how  long  endure?" 

But  days  are  few,  and  records  rare 
Where  time  was  conquered  by  despair. 

Far  out  at  the  dividing  line 

Where  sea  meets  sky,  where  sky  meets  brine, 

He  saw  a  ship,  and  one  drew  nigh 
Superb   and    clear   against   the   sky. 

Or  ilid  his  mind  bat  rave  and  rock 
His   eye  deceive,  the  sun-beams  mock? 

O  no!  O  no!  'tic  true!  'tis  true! 
There  is  the  mast,   the  sail,  the  crew. 

On   bore  the   ship  in  sweet  repose; 

His  heart  went  wild  —  he  looked  —  he  rose! 

14 


^ .  ■ti^.i  ■"■.  iiiffiti^viOTfi-iWii-iirt.Mpfc^iigrfmiiainTi'yi'^'i 


LOST  ASD  FOUND 

I'p  to  his  feet  he  sprang,  and  dashed 
(\cr  the  lifeless  stones,  and  splashed 

Into  the  water  soft  and  calm, 
Spent  of  its  fury  now,  and  sv.am 

Out  to  the  ship  that  moved  along 
Like  a  li\'e  saviour  wise  and  strong 

Close  «■()  the  shore.     This  was  his  earth. 
His  life,  his  love,  his  home,  his  hearth. 

A  rope  was  thrown,  a  ladder  lowered, 
Bright   faces   welcomed   him   on   board. 

Kind  people  nursed  him  back  to  earth. 
Kind  \oices  healed  his  grief  to  mirth. 

Kind  words  and  deeds  repentance  brought, 
Of  all  he  said,  and  feared,  and  thought. 

"  O  earth,  sweet  earth,  how  dear  to  me 
That  I  am  saved  and  well,  and  free 

"  To  cat  thy  fruits,  enjoy  thy  songs, 
To  love  thy  rights  and  fear  thy  wrongs. 

"  O  home,  sweet  home,  and  sea,  sweet  sea, 
O  love,  and  life,  and  lioerty." 

15 


nh 


•  ,»*(*siiii.«i>«ni*«ts 


The  Thistle 

BESIDE  an  ancient  igneous  stone, 
Up  near  a   summit  wind-swept  bare, 
A   Scottish   thistle  grew  alone 

With  purple  bloom  half   fresh,  h^lf   fair. 

Said  I :  "  Thou  poor  bit  struggling  flower 
Half  famished  in  the  sand  and  storm, 

I  low  came  thee  by  thy  life  and  power, 

Whence  came  the  cell  that  gave  thee  power? 

"  How  canst  thou  blush  and  bloom  and  bear 

And  wave  thy  hands  so  cheerily 
An  exiled  stranger,   lonely,    rare, 

Unknown,    unseen,    unkempt,   unfree? 

"  No  fellow-blossom  can  be  seen. 
And  not  one  stem  to  climb  or  coil; 

How  came  thee  by  thy  mauve  and  green 
l''rom   such   a   foodless,   hueless  soil? 

"  Behold   thy  sire,   crisp,  level  laid, 

Sad  relic  of  a  recent  year. 
And  know  thy  fate  in  him  portrayed; 

Art  happy  having  this  to  fear?  " 

i6 


>^^.^.--.\-^.v.\\vV?;-^\v,A^^vK^'ff&'^-X^? 


THE  THISTLE 

Then  spoke  the  thistle,  "  Sir,  of  all 

The  plants  that  creep  and  climb  and  vie 

In  palace  grounds  or  castle  wall. 

There's  none  so  proud  or  great  as  I. 

"  On  Nature's  wild  untrodden  ground 
Are  pleasures  that  are  deep  and  good; 

The  stones  have  life,  the  sands  have  sound, 
The  wind  has  words,  the  rain  has  food. 

"  I    have   no   rival,   scorning,   near, 

No  hate,  no  envy  to  conceal, 
I  have  no  friend  or  foe  to  fear; 

No  weeds  to  choke,  no  wounds  to  heal. 

"  I  have  no  fears  and  no  sad  hours, 
I  love  the  earth,  and  now  and  here, 

I  drink  the  rare  refreshing  showers. 
And  breathe  the  purest  atmosphere." 

And  I  the  man,  most  meek,  most  mild. 
Bowed  lowly  to  a  flower  so  great, 

Received  the   wisdom  like   a   child, 
And  stole  away  to  meditate. 


17 


BBBBB^aHSi 


SHHHH 


MflW«JI*W««»l^-M»«'»»l»a»R*l  l|  i«Mi!ig!S3i^tt»7at3siwS',»-  *.v 


Little  Yellow,  Yellow-Bell 

LITTLE,  yellow,  yellow-bell 
Can  you  answer,  can  you  tell, 
Is  thy  time,  thy  life,  worth  while  — 
This   brief   moment,    this   brief   smile? 

One  sweet  peep  at  (  and  sky; 

One  glad  touch  in  passing  by; 
One  sweet  glance  around  about; 
One  shy  greeting  —  down  and  out. 

Golden  lips  and  cheeks  and  eyes 
In  the  early  Spring  arise; 
Briefly,  gracefully  and  royal 
From  the  hungry,  thirsty  soil. 

Smiles  that  sandy  wastes  redeem 
Pass  so  quickly  —  pass  unseen; 
Pass  so  full  of  life,  and  real, 
Pass  wiih  sad,  unheard  appeal. 


Still  thou  dost  not  bloom  in  vain, 
Since  thy  glory  thou  dost  rain; 
i8 


LITTLE  YELLOlf,  YELLOIV-BELL 

Since  thy  presence  renders  cheery 
All  the  desert,  all  the  dreary. 

Little,  yellow,  yellow-bell. 
Here  to-day.     To-morrow?     Well, 
Thou   hast  blessed  the  lonely  plain, 
Greater  envy  thee  in  vain. 


19 


t-..:  .ma.\*^x»!X»!f!r. 


I'he  Dream  of  the  Optimist 

IDRKAMF.D  I  died  and  left  the  clay,— that 
when 
My  spirit  Hed  it  lingered  still  on  earth 
And  saw  all  things,  hut  seeing  was  unseen. 
I  saw   them  place  my  body  in  the  grave. 
1  saw  the  hot  tears  mingle  with  the  soil 
As   I  was  covered  over,  and  from  all 
My  friends  and  mankind  lost  forevermore. 
I  had  no  wife  that  mourned,  but  one  young  thing 
Shed  warmer  tears  than  all  the  rest,  and  they 
Fell  from  her  eyes  in  torrents  to  the  ground. 
1  hey  made  a  garden  of  the  mound  to  mark 
My  resting  place.      They  raised  a  mar!  le  stone  — 
I  hen  went  away,   and   I   was  left  alone. 
I  never  knew  how  much  I  was  beloved 
Until  the  moment  when,  in  prison  home 
I  found  myself  forever  in  the  soil. 

1  Ime  passed  on  swift  hours;  for  the  dead 
Have  no  conception  ni  its  flight.     The  years 
Grew  into  thousands,  then  to  millions  rose. 
I   saw  my  people  scatter  o'er  the  earth 
In  search  of  fortune,  and  I  saw  them  die 

20 


■WW 


THE  DREAM  OF  THE  OPTIMIST 

And  give  their  clay  to  fertilize  the  soil. 
I  saw  my  sweetheart  dry  her  tears  and  wed 
Another,  and  I  loved  him  for  her  sake. 
And  then  I  was  a  stranger  on  the  earth 
For  all  1  knew  had  vanished  from  my  sight. 

The  garden  bloomed  and  faded,  and  the  stone 
Fell  forward,  and  a  forest  raised  its  head 
Out  from  the  cemetery,  and  then  the  stone 
Was    covered    with    green    moss    and    dry    dead 

leaves. 
The  world  was  hastening  to  the  great  unknown. 
It  forgot  that  I  and  millions  more  had  ever  lived, 
And  loved,  and  suffered,  giving  forth  our  aid 
With  half  compelled  and  halt   unconscious  ways 
1\)  better  man's  condition  on  the  earth. 


I  saw  great  changes  overcome  the  world, 
All    wrought    by    man,     who's    very    form    was 

changed 
To  one  of  nobler  shape;  and  all  disease 
And   sad   deformities   were   known   no   more. 
In  morals  men  went  forward,  slow  in  time 
They  were  quite  perfect,  and  I  saw  them  live 
Like  brothers,  all  in  harmony  and  peace. 
All  men-of-wars  had  been  disarmed  and  used 

21 


THE  DRK.UI  OF  THE  OPTIMIST 

As  ships  of  commerce  on  the  hitr  wide  seas. 

All  prisons  were  closed,  officials  were  no  more. 

All  churches  were  erased,  for  humankind 

No  more  required  suasion  to  he  t^ood; 

Xor  needed  they  chastisement  for  oHense. 

Man's  heart  throujjjh  evolution  had  heen  changed 

To  one  of  perfect  model,  for  all  wronjr 

Had  heen  purged  throuo;h  a^^es  of  emieavor 

A.  d  I  found  that  what  T  (juestioned, 

Right  or  wrong,  had  improveil  the  human  lieart. 

Then   I  awoke.      Behold  it  was  a  dream. 


22 


WKSSSV^ 


A  Poet  of  Man 

I   AM  not  a  poet  of  Nature  whose  great  theme 
Lies  in  the  Woods,  the  mountains  and  the 
stream. 
I  am  a  poet  of  man  —  the  inner  man, 
And  heart  that  throbs  responding  to  a  joy. 
Or  beats  in  agony  at  an  undue  pain, 
Man  has  a  charm  for  me;  his  ways  and  means, 
1  Us  rights  and  wrongs  all  touch  my  soul  and  wake 
1  hat  iniluencc  which  is  instinct  in  my  life 
'I'o  speak  in  warning  for  his  benelit. 
Man's  personal   prerogatives  disturb 
My  rancor  whe-    infringed  upon;  I  rise 
in  self-defense  defending  all  mankind. 
Man's  errors  stir  me,  and  I  seek  to  mend 
1  lis  half  brute  instincts  which  a  million  years 
May  not  eliminate.      Man's  love  and  hate 
I  seek  to  bring  ugether  to  one  state. 
I  seek  to  mo.'-fy  his  prejudice,  and  lay 
1  lis  heart  entirely  open  to  fair  play; 
(live  each  his  due,  and  judge  the  weak  and  strong 
According  to  our  light  of  right  and  wrong; 
To  give  our  foes  just  credit  for  their  good, 

23 


-/  roiT  OF  M  l\ 

Ami  blame  our  loved  ones  for  their  faults.      The 

fooil 
7  hat  quenches  all  the  cravinj^s  of  my  brain 
Flows  in  this  ehannel.      I  himan  j^rief  anil  pain 
Awake  my  |>ity  —  enslav  enetl  miiuls 
I  wish  to  set  at  liberty,  dud  find 
A   slayer   for   all   su[iersntious    fear. 
And   pro\e   the  nnstery  of  our   bein^f  here. 
'I'his  is  the  muse  that  stirs  me,  and  I  feel 
A  duty  is  performed  when    I   steal 
Into  the  wooillaiids  that  I  love  so  well 
To  write  what  inspiration  brink's,  and  tell 
The  rif.rhts  of  iTiankind  to  his  fellow  man  — 
Wherein  we  err,  antl  where  we  wisely  [ilan  — 
To  ^ive  him  credit  for  his  nobleness. 
And  blame  him  for  his  groundless  wickedness. 


24 


As  \\c  Arc  Seen 

AS  tlic  stars  and  heavens  sec  us 
Man  ami  woman,  we  are  three, 
l-rorn  the  tiawnin^  to  the  liark. 
The  dead,  the  living,  those  to  he. 

On  the  plains  ami  in  the  forest 

r'oot-prints  niari<  the  sands  and  clay 

Steps  of  secret  boiiies  moving, 
Passing  at  ttie  break  of  day. 

I*assin^  with  unsteatiy  motion. 

1  lere  uncertain,  there  unseen, 
In  a  broken  language  talking, 

Telling  half  of  what  has  been. 

By  the  sea  and  on  the  rivers, 

0\er  all  in  many  ways, 
Speak  the  heroes,  stand  the  mansions. 

Stand  the  beauties  of  our  days. 

Hear  the  merry,  merry  laughter, 
Hear  the  ringing  of  the  chimes, 

Hear  the  weeping,   wailing,  gnashing - 
Shames  and  glories  of  our  days. 

25 


JS  II  I:    IRE  SEES' 

Lie  the  ^rcat  oms  ol  the  future 
l^nsuspettin^i;.  unsuspeeteil, 

Down  the  affes  in  the  shailous 
St  ami  j^reat  statues  utierecteil. 

We  must  fall  that  they  may  ri^i^, 

'\'()u  and  I  and  all  alive, 
Our  dear  ilays  and  \vi  ..'ks  and  years 

Ours  must  [lerish  ti.     rs  to  thrive. 


26 


The  Poet 


HI-;  is  all  depth  no  surface,  when  he  speaks 
I  le  speaks  whole  volumes;  ami  his  eye  with 
pride 
Sees  each  emotion  in   the  human   heart 
However  well   preserved,   however  masked. 
I'.ach  joy  and  charm  in  nature  sees  he  to(j 
Without  a  clouil  to  mar  his  j;lorious  view. 
I  le  takes  a  man's  dissected  soul  and  tells 
Whereii;  he  errs  —  wherein  he  may  improv  e. 
lie  tells  us  of  our  faults,  thou;^h  we  may  tlinch 
At  the  sad  truth,  and  marvel  how  his  eye 
Can  hrln^  i.a  light  things  whispered  not  about; 
Or  things  we  dare  iiot  bring  to  light  tor  fear 
Our  true  self  should  be  known.      The  poet  smiles 
At  his  alarm  and  horror  when  he  tells 
Man  of  himself;  man  learns  ot  secrets  then 
That  have  been  in  his  breast  iov  ages  past 
I'nknow^n  to  him  and  all  the  world  besides. 
The  poet  is  a  messenger  who  spies 
At  the  soul's  door  and  gives  its  truths  away. 
He  judges  inward  man  by  outward  signs 
And  seldom  errs  for  he  is  ir^;  ired 

27 


THE  POET 

And  speaks  out  hoUlly  what  he  iinds  unknown 
To   man  in   man,  to   nature   in   herself. 
He  is  a  yit'ted  preacher  whose  appeal 
Should  win  o'er  millions  to  their  better  self. 
He  is  a  prophet  born  to  reveal 
Unknown  and  unsuspected  states  to  be. 
The  poet  made  old  Cireece  and  all  her  gods 
Where  each  emotion  and  each  act  and  thought 
Was  made  a  person  and  was  shunned  or  sought. 


>8 


iJi*^ 


Revelry 

TI II' RI",  were  sounds  of  mirth  in  the  gay,  gay 
town, 
In  the  gay  town  of  Port  Artliur; 
And  the   tnirth  went  up   as  the  v.ine  went  down. 
And  the  city  shook  with  laughter.* 

The  men  made  love  and  the  maids  made  fun 
While  the  tlarkness  crept  upon  them. 

There  never  was  a  company,  no  not  one 
With  a  lighter  conscience  on  them. 

"  We  will  ne\tr  have  cause  our  sword  to  bend 

On  that  of  the  heathen  nations, 
For  diplomatic  wits  will  mend 

All  strained  and  false  relations." 


But  the  sound  of  guns  in  the  far,  far  East, 

In  the  harbor  of  Port  Arthur 
Pierced  eve*-y  bosom  at  the  feast, 

And  the  ch'-y  ceased  its  laughter, 

*  From  the  description  of  G.   P.  Curtc?,  Examiner,  March 
17,  i(X>4. 

29 


REl'ELRY 

liyc  spoke  to  eye,  ir  the  great,  grand  hal!, 
And  every  heart  beast  faster; 

"   l\)  arms,  to  arms,"  was  the  call 
That  sprang  from  maid  and  master. 


"  Make  haste,  "tis  the  guns  at  the  harbor  cn^], 

The  heathen  are  upon  us. 
To  ship,  to  ship,  for  our  li\es  attend 

1-lre  they  spit  their  cannon  on  us." 

"  Nay,    'tis  the   guns   at   the   harbor   gaps,"   they 
saiil, 

"  1  he  guns  at  practice  only. 
They  fear  an   attack  from   t!ie  Japs."  they  said. 

And  they  laughed  "  in  the  midnight  lonely." 


Then  the  tlance  went  on  and  the  feasting,  too, 
.^\nd  the  wine  was  serveel  no  milder, 

Antl  the  mirth  increasetl,  and  the  laughter  grew, 
And  the  loosened  tongues  went  wilder. 


^Yhcn  the  morning  came,  the  cool,  gray  dawn 

Revealed  a  scene  of  slaughter. 
The  ships  were  crippled  but  the  Japs  were  gone, 

And  the  brave  were  dead  in  the  water. 


30 


The  "  Clallam  "  and  the  Iroquois  * 

W'".  shoLiKl  Iiuir  and  kiss  our  own  ones  wlio  arc 
safcU  honic  ':onight, 
Ant!  la\ish  all  our  care  upon  tlicni  whether  wrong 

or  right; 
Tliev  niav  he  o\ertaken  hy  some  unexepected  foe; 
We  may  not  ha\  e  the  chance  to  hug  and  kiss  them 
ere  they  go. 

We  should  hug  and  kiss  our  own  ones  and  curse 

them  not;  in  fact. 
We  do  not  know  when  they  may  leave  us  ne\"er 

to  come  hack. 
And    hundreds   have   heen    tortured    in    their    ah- 

sence  e'er  they  knew, 
And  did  not  have  a  chance  to  kiss  or  evil  to  undo. 

We  should  hug  and  kiss  our  own  ones;  sad  warn- 
ings here  ami  there 

Reveal  to  us  that  they  may  reach  eternity  un- 
aware. 


*  Iro(iuois    fire,    Dec.    30,    1905.     "Clallam"    wrtcketl,    Jan.    8, 

31 


THE  CLJLL.iM  JSD  THE  IROQUOIS 

There   was  an   admonition   to   our  careless  ways 

and  slow- 
When  the  Iroquois  was  fired  and  the  "  Clallam  " 

went  below. 

We  should  hug  and  kiss  our  own  ones  for  calami- 
ties such  as  these 

Should  teach  us  to  appreciate  our  loved  ones  on 
our  knees  — 

Where  mothers  lose  their  children  and  husbands 
lose  their  wives 

Who  in  their  lonely  suffering  gave  up  their  pre- 
cious li\es. 


We  should  hug  and  kiss  our  own  ones  and  love 

their  very  name; 
They  may  perish  in  the  waters  wild  or  in  the  rag- 


uig  name 


Without  a  sympathizing  voice  and  not  a  tear- 
dimmed  eye 

To  speak  a  loving  word  and  weep  and  watch  them 
while  they  die. 


3a 


The  World  and  Man 

Tllll  world  docs  not  look  for  man,  but  man 
Looks  for  the  world:  it  does  not  even  try 
To  search  him  out  for  gain  or  gold,  but  leaves 
Mis  bud  to  v.ither  in  the  deaf-mute  air. 
It  docs  not  seek  to  profit  by  his  theme, 
Nor  seek  to  know  his  beneficial  scheme; 
Nor  does  it  undermine  his  home  in  whole 
For  precious  treasure  hidden  in  his  soul; 
Nor  does  it  try  to  cultivate  his  plant. 
Man  seeks  the  world  struggling  with  great  odds, 
To  force  upon  us  what  we  praise  him  for 
In  time  —  it  may  be  music,  and  it  may 
Be  science  or  invention  of  some  kind. 
He  crawls  through  darkness,  over  mires  of  slime; 
He  braves  rebuke,  dishonor,  even  crime 
Imposed  upon  him,  for  he  is  a  fool 
At  first,  who  is  a  hero  in  the  end. 
Against  all  evil  influence  grows  his  creed  — 
If  strong,  though  not  immune,  he  may  succeed. 
He  must  defy  all  billows  till  the  '.and 
Is  reached,  and  then  they  clamor  for  his  hand. 
But  where  one  hero  breathless  gains  ihe  shore 
A  thousand  sink  unknown  to  rise  no  more. 

33 


^11^5-: 


Rccd  Sinoot 

IX   the   Ltiitcd  States  senate  one   Reed 
Was  accused  cf  a  very  bad  deed, 
So  they  took  him  to  court 
With  a  solemn  report 
And  started  lo  germinate  seed. 


This  report  was  carefully  drawn, 
And  in  one  part  it  said  very  strong: 

"  Reed  Smoot  is  a  Mormon  " 

And  Senator  Ciorman 
Says  'tis   unlawful  and  wrong. 

So  they  probed  all  his  joys  -xnd  his  woes 
From  his  head  to  the  tips  of  his  toes  — 

Quite  {ilain  it  was  shown 

That  he  was  not  alone, 
I- or  they  brought  in  his  friends  and  his  foes. 


And  they  went  to  the  radical   (root) 
In  the  trial  of  Senator  Smoot; 
And  each  leaf  and  limb 
Was  a  proof  against  him 
And  the  Mormon  religion  to  boot. 

34 


REED  SMOOT 

Joe  Smith  they  first  fell  upon, 

(The  Mcnocotylccion} 
This  was  a  prophet 
Who  made  something  of  it 

And  founded  the  church  of  Mormon. 

They  examined  his  whole  famous  life 

From  his  birth  to  the  end  of  his  strife. 

They  tried  quite  their  best 

'Fo  blame  him  with  the  rest, 

But  they  found  he  had  only  one  wife. 

They  next  came  to  one  Brigham  Young 
Of  whom  the  poets  have  sung. 

When  they  found  he  had  twenty 
Or  more,  they  said  "  plenty, 
We  are  all  with  indignity  stung." 

On  Smith  the  Apostle  they  fell; 

llis  tale  was  amusing  to  tell. 
He  said  he  had  four 
And  wished  he  had  more, 

And  he  loved  them  all  fondly  as  well. 


35 


RRKD  SMOOl 

This  was  die  last  gasp  in  the  said  talk. 

It  brought  the  whole  court  to  a  deadlock; 

In  the  year  "91  " 

A  law  was  begun 
To  prohibit  polygamous  wedlock. 


They  should  leave  Smoot  alone  in  his  glory. 
And  hush  up  the  abominable  story. 

He  has  but  one  wife 

For  the  joy  of  his  life, 
And  to  have  any  more  would  be  sorry. 


36 


The  Man 


IIIAVI-'.  no  prejudice,   u  man  nray  lie 
Black  or  white,  oi  yellow  but  to  me 
lie  is  a  man,  and  that  is  all  1  know. 
I  ;ini  not  bigoted,  a  man  iTiay  ha\e 
Coinictions  to  his  liking,  as  he  tinds 
The   world   he   may  take   it,   and  his   faith 
In  all  things  known  and  unknown  may  control 
His  life,  his  ways,  his  friendship  and  his  love  — 
To  me  he  is  a  fellow  man  —  a  friend 
If  he  is  gentle,  honest  and  retined. 
That  which  we  think  most  probable  let  us  hold 
As  truth  even  if  the  proof  is  not  yet  found. 
He  is  rightest  who  is  kindest  in  the  world  — 
Who  does  the  most  to  help  his  fellow  men  — 
Who  feeds  the  hungry  and  uplifts  the  weak 
No  matter  what  his  creed  is.     What  we  think 
Is  mind-born;  there  it  ends.     W^e  are  all  right 
Because  we  think  according  to  our  light. 
We  should  have  praise  for  what  we  may  achieve 
No  matter  what  convictions  we  believe. 
Nor  would  I  choose  a  friend  by  faith,  and  shun 
The  man  whose  views  were  different  from  my  own. 

37 


Anticipation 

OXCl'l,  when  the  world  seemed  strangest  and 
when  time 
Most  awcii  me,  ami  when  jnist  and  future  cluny 
Most  hea\  y  in  their  nnsteries  on  m,  ..mid, 
I  stood  bewildered  and  my  mind's  eye  tleu 
Into  that  tiim  future  where  lies  unknown, 
r.ngult'ed  in  mystery  the  tatc  of  all 
That  was,  and  is,  and  may  be  in  the  world. 

Came  like  a  shock  the  fate  ot  men  who  die 
And  leave  their  clay  to  fertilize  the  soil. 
Came  with  a  pang  the  inevitable  end 
Of  all  inanimate  objects  lying  by. 


Man  has  great  glory  wuiring  but  beyond 
Imagination  pictures  e\en  his  fall, 
And  the  probable  ending  of  the  world  and  all. 
The   sun  goes  out,   the   world   goes  parched   and 

dry, 
And  total  darkness   spreads  throughout  the   sky, 
A  thousand  zeros  take  the  world  in  hand 
And  spread  extinction  all  across  the  land: 
And  never  more  a  tongue  shall   speak  to  save 

38 


.isricii'JTios' 

Man's  fj;I<)ry  from  an  c\crlastiiig  grave. 

TIk-    world   tliat   ho   had   harnessed   with    his   will 

Will  c()n(]iicr  lilni  at  last  but  keep  on  still 

All  relie-strcuti  witli  man's  forgotten  skill, 

lUit  cris[)  and  dry,  unfertile  and  unknown, 

Into  the  ages   friendless  and  alone. 

I   weep  for  the  fate  of  all  tilings  when  the  years 
Of  earth  ;ire  numbered  —  and  1  shed  hot  tears. 


39 


The  Owls  aiui  the  \V\pcd 

T\\'( )  owls  one  nl^ht  came  "  hoot,  hoot,  hoot," 
l\i^ht  at  niy  hcd-roorn  uiiuiow  foot 
Anu  spoke  their  hiiiguage  (]u.iitit  ami  cute. 

(  )iie  said:  "  I  ilo  not  know,  oo,  oo, 

W  liat  it  is  best  lor  us  to  do. 

\\  liich  is  the  deadlier  of  the  two 

"   The  uprij^'ht  hiped  or  the  erow? 
I  he  ape  that  dresses  up  for  show 
Or  tfie  bird  that  is  hlaek  from   head  t(»  toe?" 

The  other  salii ;  "  I  think,  oo,  oo, 
Thar  man   is  the  deadlier  of  the  two; 
W'c  know  not  what  he  yet  may  do. 


I  saw  one  once  when  scarce  in  \iew' 
Se\er  an   owlet  right  in  two 
With  only  a  sharp  report,  oo,  oo. 

"  There's  not  a  living  thing  that  is, 
Which,  if  it  does  not  mind  its  biz, 
Will  be  an  ornament  of  his. 

40 


77/a:  oifi.s  .iM)  rin.  lui'f  n 

" 'riicy   nail   us  mounted  on  their  u.ill. 
I  lu y  sp  ill  our  tlc'sli;  ami  this  not  all; 
<  )iir  hicks  iiri.-  haii^in^f  in  their  hall. 

"  The  \ery  lamb,  whose  pure  career 

Is  [)ast  the  shadow  ol   a  sneer, 

They  clip  atul  slash  with  knife  and  shear. 

"  Let's  set  his  house   atir-    ami  tly 
into  tlie  niu;ht  wliere  secrets  lie 
1'nls.nown  to  bijied  or  to  tly." 

The  other  then  :    "  By  faith,  oo,  on, 

'I'hat  is  the  \erv  thinj;  tr.  do. 

Down  witli  tlie  liouse  and  the  biped  too." 

.And  when  I  heard  a  flip,  flap,  flap, 
.And  into  the  nijrht  they  went,  mayhap 
In  search  of  a  piece  of  pine-\>ood  sap. 

.And  I,  with  niy  conscience  on  my  tace, 
Blushed  for  the  misdeeds  of  my  race, 
And  slept  to  hide  from  the  disgrace. 


41 


A  Medium 


I 


I   AM  a  medium  only,  for  my  thoughts 
Come  uni.-epared;  my  very  visions  start 
Like  meteors  in  the  sky  with  bright  clear  Hash 
Bursting  unwarned,  and  like  meteors  come 
I'rom  spheres  unknown  at  random  one  by  one. 
I  do  not  hold  me  guilty  for  my  thoughts, 
Nor  am  I  quite  responsible  for  my  views. 
For  I  cannot  shape  my  verses  at  my  will, 
Nor  mould  opinions  that  would  suit  myself; 
For  had  I  my  own  way  I  would  not  war 
I'ncrowned  against  the  evils  of  the  day. 
I  would  not  risk  the  love  of  all  mankind 
In  trying  to  give  seeing  to  the  blind. 
A  poet  is  the  tool  of  higher  power 
Whose  individual  rights  are  sacrificed 
That  he  may  pipe  instruction  to  the  world. 
This  influence  takes  his  very  mind  in  hand 
And  scatters  balm  across  the  stricken  land: 
Or  else  he  is  a  victim  of  past  growth 
Beyond  the  great  misfortune  of  most  men. 
The  influence  of  past  ages  on  the  brain 
Makes  thought  an  instinct,  and  ideas  roam 
Entirely  independent  of  the  man 

42 


A  MEDIUM 

Till  even  in  sleep  we  cannot  cease  to  plan. 
I  often  dream  a  line  or  two,  and  make 
A  poem  from  my  vision  when  I  wake. 
So  thus  I  am  a  medium  on  the  earth  — 
\  go-between,  to  carry  rules  and  laws 
To  uphold  virtues  and  to  point  out  flaws. 


43 


l^ 


Faith 

OXCF,  rose  a  city  on  an  ocean  siiorc 
Fed  by  the  trade  and  conmierce  of  the  sea, 
Anci  sweetened  by  the  breezes  of  pure  air 
That  skininied   the  waters  over  from  the  west, 
And  nurtured  by  the  rain-clouds  hastening  by 
Fo  fertilize  the  inland  fields  and  plains. 

The  city  grew  and  flourished  till  its  walls 
Fncircled  millions,  and  its  stone-pa\cd  streets 
Were  teeming  with  ambitious  work-worn  men; 
For  every  man  had  either  hewed  a  stone, 
f)r  mixed  the  mortar  to  cement  the  walls, 
Or  planned  and  joined  the  woodwork  where  re- 
quired, 
Or  excavated,  then  with  common  pride  — 
As  they  were  common  in  their  form  and  birth — ■ 
They  praised  their  work  and  doted  on  their  skill. 


But    anguish    probed    t'.ieir   hearts   anon.     There 

rose 
Great  questions  as  to  what  a  man  should  hold 
As  truth  regarding  things  unknown  to  all. 
What  was  it  meet  for  mankind  to  believe 

44 


r.nrn 

Respecting  world  mysteries,  and  the  fate 

Of  those  who  leave  us  one  by  one  in  death?  — 

And    this    made    foes    of    men    who    once    were 

friends. 
The  Press  took  up  the  matter  and  a  war 
Of  bitter  hatred  cut  the  town  in  two. 
Each  half  was  sub-divided  later,  till 
A    hundred    sections   held    respective   views, 
And  each  one  thought  his  faith  alone  correct. 
Some  papers  were  agnostic,  some  for  God; 
Some  worshiped  statues  chiseled  from  cold  stone; 
Some  bowed  before  the  sun  and  moon  and  stars, 
While  others  reverenced  the  crude,  wild  beasts. 
They    raised    great    temples    to    propound    their 

views, 
And  faith  became  the  one  important  fact. 

Anon  a  restless  spirit's  trembling,  shook 
The  roots  and  branches  of  their  cherished  hopes, 
And  brought  the  fruits  of  ages  to  the  ground. 
There  rose  a  question  as  to  who  was  right  — 
And  this  was  greatest  problem  of  them  all. 
The  last  we  heard  those  men  were  still  in  doubt, 
\Yithout  one  clue  to  bring  the  tnie  facts  out. 


45 


To  the  Brain 

LONG  hampered,  long  enslavened,  thou  hast 
lost 
A  mint  of  wealth  that  might  have  been  thy  own 
But  for  the  persecutions  of  mankind 
Through    decades    of    vile    plunder,    when    thy 

strength 
Was  overpowered  by  brutal   force;  when   ignor- 
ance 
Of  laity  was  Pontiff  power  and  gain. 
In  looking  back,  thou  scarce  hast  gained  a  step 
Since  Homer  sang  the  war-god's  song,  and  kept 
Alive  the  manners  of  his  time  unknown; 
Since  Socrates  and  Plato  in  their  dark, 
Enshrouded,  groping  way,  gave  forth  their  views 
Of   world   mysteries    and    the    universe 
Since  they  the  Hrst  of  ethics  gave  to  man  — 
What  was  the  rightcst,  also  what  was  wrong; 
I  low  we  could  live  the  noblest;  what  to  do 
L  nder  the  circumstances  of  the  world, 
Our  life,  our  helplessness,  our  birth, 
And  ultimate  return  to  the  earth. 
And  thou  art  what  we  go  by;  all    ve  know 
Thou  gathered  from  oblivion  long  ago. 

46 


TO  THE  BRAIN 

Thy  harvest  still  is  only  in  the  sheaf, 
Thou  hast  a  future  greater  than  we  know. 
Thy  greatest  representatives 


are 


dead, 


fled 


Their  voices  long  are  stilled,   their  genius 
B'ut  future  lights  may  yet  send  forth  their  ray 
To  dazzle  all  the  world,  and  achieve 
The  laurels  which  the  ancients  wear  unclaimed. 
A  thousand  years  of  dark  unfruitfulness. 
Then  thou  wert  born  again,  and  Dante  came. 
And  after  him  a  long  and  worthy  train 
Sprang    from   the    roots   of    ancient   Greece   and 

Rome, 
That  had  been  dormant  in  the  slush  and  slime 
Of  helpless  ignorance,  and  groundless  crime. 


47 


I 


Liberty 

F  aught  in  life  there  is  for  me, 
'lis  peace  and  love  and  liberty. 


If  there  is  pleasure  in  these  days, 
'Tis  freedom  of  our  thoughts  and  ways. 

For  if  we  let  our  conscience  rule 
Our  ways,  there  is  no  better  school. 

I   sometimes  wander  to  the  woods 
To  ponder  in  my  happy  moods ; 

And  lay  me  down  and  learn  to  love 
The  sun  and  moon  and  stars  above; 

And  praise  the  power  that  gave  me  those 
x\nd  all  the  glory  they  expose; 

And  clutch  the  earth,  my  dearest  friend 
That  brings  me  blessings  without  end; 


And  sigh  that  I  must  leave  a  Ikmiic 
In  which  I  love  so  much  to  roam. 

48 


LIBERTY 

For  all  the  wonders  that  I  see 
Expand  my  heart  with  love  and  glee; 

And  all  the  comforts  that  I  find 
Were   freely  given  to  be  mine. 


49 


A  Lesson 

IWI'-Xr  to  school  with  Nature; 
My  lesson  was  on  Man; 
I  opened  up  my  copy-book 
And  overlooked  the  plan. 

I   saw  ten  million  pages, 
All   closely   written    too; 

I  staggered  at  the  mountain  weight 
Of  work  I  had  to  do. 

There  was  history  in  those  pages, 
And  r.-iystcry  in  them  too, 

With  love  and  hate  and  selfishness 
And  anecdotes  half  true. 

There  was  honesty  and  justice, 

Self-sacrifice  and  fears. 
And  a  million  other  Virtues  that 

Were  loaded  down  with  tears; 


Ten  chapters  on  hypocrisy, 
A  hundred  on  conceit, 

A  thousand  supernatural 
And  fifty  incomplete; 
50 


A  LESSON 

Philosophy  and  hygiene, 

l^sychology  and  faith, 
Law  and  metaphysics, 

And  birth,  and  life,  and  death. 

There  was  outward  man  and  inward, 
The  upper  and  the  lower, 

The  richer  and  the  poorer,  and 
The  savage  and  some  more. 

I  hastened  from  my  desk,  and 
Gave  up  with  grief  untold  — 

Too  much  there  was  in  volumes  for 
One  human  mind  to  hold. 


51 


The  x\Icn  ot   tlic  Pctropavlofsk 


*t^INCi  ho  for  the  rctr()pavh)fsk, 
O      ^ing  ho  for  the  men  of  jrallantry. 
We  ha\e  no  fear  if  the  Japs  are  near 

Nor   eare   if   they   iif^^ht   most  s^lhintly." 


CHORUS 

Come  list  to  the  waves 
That  si^h  o'er  the  graves 
Of  the  men  of  the  Petropavlofsk. 

"Our  hearts  are  lighter  than  the  morn. 
We  fear  no  Jap  that  e'er  was  born 

The  heathen  hoard  with  their  fire  and  sword 
We  shall  teaeh  the  White  Man's  wrath  to  scorn.' 

C'llOKlS 

Come  list  to  the  waves 
That  sigh  o'er  the  graves 
Of  the  men  of  the  Petropavlofsk. 


"  So  sing  '  Yo  heave  '  with  all  thy  might, 
And  bring  the  flag-ship  to  the  fight. 

We  are  men  of  steel  in  woe  or  weal 
And   shrink   from  nothing  that  Is  right." 


52 


Till:  Mi:s  or  ruE  I'lrRoi'jri.oisK 

Cll  )KLS 
Conic  list  to  tfic  waves 
That  si^h  o'er  the  ji;ravcs 
CJt  the  men  of  the  Petropavlofsk. 

So  they  went  to  the   front  most  jralhmtly, 
Right  into  the  midst  of  the  enemy. 

I'here  was  not  a  man  in  the  whole  great  plan 
Hilt  would  die  with  the  I'etropavlolsk. 

ClIORl'S 

Come  list  to  the  waves 
That  sigh  o'er  the  graves 
Of  the  men  of  the  l*etropavlofsk. 

Then  a  shock,  and  a  flash,  and  a  roar,  and  a  yell, 
And  the  flag-ship  into  fragments  fell. 

And  the  men  went  down  with   a   fame-decked 
crown. 
That  shall  shine  as  long  as  man  can  tell. 

CHORUS 
Come  list  to  the  waves 
That  sigh  o'er  the  graves 
Of  the  men  of  the  Petropavlofsk. 


53 


THE  MF.\'  OF  rni:  I'i.tkoi'.iilofsk 

'1  luTf  arc  homes  ulicrc  ^riff  is  raj^Ing  hij^li. 
'1  hcri'  arc  honics  where  those  heroes  will  not  die. 
'I  here  are  hearts  at  home  that  were  tossed  on 
the  foam 
That  cK)sed  on  th.e  IV'tropavdofsk. 

CIIOKIS 
C'onie  list  to  the  wa\-es 
That  si^h  o'er  the  jrraves 
Of  the  men  of  the  Pctropavlofsk. 


54 


Borrowed 

TI  II".  flesh  vvc  have  is  borrowed  flesh, 
Horroueil   frotii   earlfi   atui  air; 
The  h'le  we  ha\e  is  horroweil  life, 
borrowed  from  —  we  know  not  where. 


I  lie  eyes  we  have  are  borrowe  '  eyes, 

borrowed  in  a  complex  way; 
Our  heart  is  but  a  borroweii  heart, 
And  must  be  ^iven  back  some  tiay. 

I  he  lore  we  have  is  borrowed  lore, 

Borrowed  from  the  learned  dead; 
The  books  we  have  arc  borrowed  books, 
Cileancd  from  what  the  wise  have  said. 

Time  has  a  mortp;agc  on  our  life 
And  a  mortf^aj»c  on  our  lore. 

Some  day  tinu-  will  call  around 
And  forever  close  our  door. 

Why  arc  we  punished  for  a  crime? 

Why  for  a  virtue  arc  we  praised? 
Our  byjrone  fathers  willed  us  these  — 

On  their  bequcathings  we  have  grazed. 
55 


BORROJfED 

The  life  ue  have  is  borrowed  li.'s, 
And  Quv  flesh  is  but  a  loan  — 

If  all   I  have  is  borrowed,  then 
There's  nothing  I  can  call  my  own. 


56 


The  Cuckoo 

THE  cuckoo  lays  in  another  bird's  nest, 
And  not  in  a  nest  of  its  own  — 
And  some  men  Hve  by  other  men's  means, 
And  not  from  seeds  they  have  sown. 

Another  bird  hatches  the  cuckoo's  egg. 
And  nurtures  a   foe  unknown  — 

And  some  men  work  for  other  men's  good 
More  ihuu  they      ^  for  their  own. 

The  young  one  objects  its  foster  mates. 
And  reigns  in  the  nest  alone  — 

And  some  men  step  on  others  to  reach 
A  better  and  higher  throne. 

Another  bird  fosters  the  cuckoo's  young, 
And  thinks  she  is  kind  to  her  own 

And  some  men  trust  in  another  man's  smile, 
And  cherish  an  adder  unknown. 


I 


57 


A  Death 


ANOTHER  soul  has  fled  the  earth  and  left 
A  withered,  shrinking  body  for  the  soil. 
Another  weary,  finished  with  his  toil 
And  gone  to  rest.     The  history  of  a  man 
Has  been  tolled  out,  and  credit  has  been  given  — 
For  he  is  dead.      Death  cancels  all  our  debts 
Of  wrongs  and  passions,  and  eliminates 
Our  deepest  dyes.      For  once  we  get  our  dues 
For  one  brief  moment,  then  the  mantle  falls 
Opaque  and  dark,  and  time  rolls  slowly  on 
Toward  the  great  eternity,  and  we 
Are  lost  as  though  we  never  had  been  born. 
It  means  our  everything  —  our  all.     It  means 
l^hat  all  we  feel,  and  know,  and  understand 
Is  blotted  from  us  —  that  the  sun  dies  out 
Before  our  eyes  whatever  our  regret, 
And  all  is  dark  and  gloomy  as  before, 
And   earthly  knowledge  shall  be  ours  no  more; 
Our  very  house  and  home,  our  friend  and  foe. 
One  generation  more,  will  cease  to  know 
That  such  a  party  lived,  and  laughed,  and  died, 
With  whom  one  sang,  with  whom  another  sigh  'd. 

58 


A  DEATH 


His  very  form  shall  leave  the  minds  of  men; 
His  very  thoughts  shall  perish  —  and  again  ' 
His  brief  example,  if  he  had  a  theme, 
Will  be  as  dead  as  a  forgotten  dr 


iream. 


!■ 


59 


The  False  Heart 

A\'IRTUE  is  a  fault  in  one  we  hate; 
A  fault  a  virtue  in  the  one  we  love. 
We  are  so  frail,  so  mortal,  and  so  full 
Of  unforgivingness  where  we  dislike. 
And  so  unseeing  where  we  cast  our  love, 
That  all  our  moral  fairness  is  cast  off 
And  leaves  but  prejudice  in  two  extremes. 
Tliis  is  our  ancient  instinct  still  alive, 
Ruling   our   lives  —  deciding  this   and   that  — 
Shaping  our  destiny,  and  making  foes  — 
And  very  otten  making   friends  of  those 
Who  merit  not  our  confidence  and  love; 
And  enemies  of  ones   who  love  us  most. 
Superficially,  the  savage  is  no  more; 
The  bangle  and  the  tatto  are  dead  arts; 
We  have  outgrown  the  worship  of  wild  beasts; 
We  live  no  more  in  hovels  in  the  ground; 
But  still  the  heart  —  the  hardest  to  reform  — 
Bears  malice,  holds  a  spite,  and  strikes 
1  o  seek  revenge  for  harm  once  sust'^ined. 
These  are  all  savage  traits;  the  white  man's  heart 
Has   softened   little  —  it   is   but   restrained; 
Its  vengeance  is  much  greater  when  the  chain 

60 


THE  FJLSE  HEART 

That  holds  it  snaps;  it  strikes  with  ton-fold  force, 
And  leaves  a  greater  sorrow  in  its  course. 
We  should  o'erconie  the  brute-man,  and  allow 
Our  gentler  soul  to  take  our  hearts  in  tow; 
And  we  should  slay  the  savage  from  our  soul, 
And  ever  labor  for  the  purest  goal. 


6i 


M. 


The  Dead 

0\I"  horrid  night  I  slumbered  and  believed 
I  went  a  visit  to  the  dead,  and  saw 
Strange  beings  that  had  gloried  once  hereon, 
But  who  had  fallen  in  tieath  at  various  times. 
The  whole  world's  past  irom  ages  far  remote 
Down   t.)  the   present  day  was  there  congealed; 
And  in  those  hearts  was  history  yet  untold. 
The  tongues  were  silent,  and  the  cold,  still  lips 
Were  scaled  forever  with  their  secret  lore. 
One  spirit  said,  as  I  went  wandering  by  — 
"  How  long  must  I  in  this  oblivion  lie? 
Where  is  that  home,  the  dwelling  of  the  blest?" 
Then  closed  its  eyes  and  sank  once  more  to  rest. 
I  hurried  by  and  answered  not  the  shade. 
But  bowed  my  head  and  vanished  silently. 
Another  murmured,  "  Bring  me  back,  my  love," 
I  turned  my  head  ?  moment  as  it  spoke. 
The  form  trembled  but  was  quiet  again. 
The  eyes  were  closed  once  more,  and  motionless. 
I  saw  the  lover  sleeping  by  his  side 
Where  she  had  lam  for  ages  quite  unknown 
To  that  sad  heart.      I  turned  away.     A  tear 
Went  trickling  down  my  cheek,  and  on  my  breast 

62 


THE  DEAD 

A  load  of  bitter  disappointment  pressed. 

I  answered  not,  for  guilty  as  I  was, 

I  did  not  wish  my  ignorance  to  display. 

A  moan  came  to  me  from  a  spirit  by, 

Which  thus  complaining  said,  "  O!  why  should  I 

In   this   cold   clay   forever,    ever,   lie? 

Give  me  the  fields  of  earth,  the  streams  and  hills, 

I  he  mountains,  valleys  and  the  murmuring  rills." 

I  fell  to  earth  face  downward  and  the  tears 

Gushed  from  my  eyes  in  torrents,  till  the  ground 

Was  flooded  with  this  essence  of  distress; 

And  then  I  rose  and  fled.     A  shade  near  by 

Caused  me  to  pause  again  and  hear  its  cry! 

"  I  sacrificed  my  world-home,  and  I  sought 

A  glorious  Heaven,  and  this  is  all  I  got." 

A  cry  of  anguish  started  from  its  lips. 

Then    they    were    sealed   once    more  —  th.     lips 

were  closed, 
And  motionless  lay  the  spirit  as  before. 
Again  a  flood  of  sorrow  reached  my  eyes; 
Again  my  form  trembled  and  I  fell 
Face  down  and  bit  the  very  dust  in  grief. 
I  wept  tor  the  sins  of  mankind,  then  arose 
Dashed    through    those    tombs    of    horror    and 

distress. 
Eager  to  escape  its  bitter  atmosphere. 

63 


f 


THE  DEAD 

At  every  step  a  murmuring  spirit  came 

Down  from  the  earth  above,  and  took  its  place 

Complaining  with  the  host  already  there. 

Failing  to  free  myself  I  fled  along 

Always  amidst  a  sorrow  laden  throng. 

I  closed  my  eyes,  and  stopped  my  ears,  and  fled 

Head  foremost  like  an  arrow  o'er  the  dead 

Without  a  wing,  and  thus  I  sped  along. 

But  still  beneath  I  heard  the  same  sad  song. 

A  brother  sought  a  sister,  then  a  wife 

Called  for  the  husband  she  had  loved  in  life. 

A  mother  called  her  children,  and  a  child 

Called  for  its  parents  in  a  voice  half  wild. 

And  many  yearned  for  the  green,  glad  earth 

Where  they  had  lived,  and  loved,  and  joined  in 

mirth. 
Where  every  comfort  they  had  wished  was  theirs, 
And  where  they  mingled  in  the  world's  affairs, 
And  humbly  gave  assistance  in  its  cares. 
At  last  a  sad  voice  calling  me  for  aid 
Relieved  my  brain,  and  made  my  vision  fade. 


64 


The  Two  Brides 

AWOMAX  dying  in  her  husband's  arms, 
Seized  by  fell  affliction  in  young  years 
And  deep   devotion   for  her  sweetheart,   said 
With  the  last  murmur  of  her  inward  soul 
E'er  it  departed  from  the  trembling  frame, — 
"O!  hold  me  tightly,  let  me  not  depart! 
It  is  so  hard  to  die.      I  love  the  world  — 
And  thee.     O!  what  a  sad  exchange,  to  give 
All  that  I  love,  against  my  will,  for  death; 
Death,   bitter  death,   and  loathsome   death.     O! 
why 

Should  a  bud  thus  perish  e'er  it  prove  its  power? 
Am  1  not  young  thus  to  be  laid  away 
From  thee  forever  in  the  cold,  damp  clay? 
But  it  must  be,  I  know  my  end  is  nigh. 
How  sad  my  fate,  has  God  no  sympathy? 
My  dear,  press  closely  to  my  bosom,  kiss 
My  cold,  thin  lips  —  they  have  no  warmth  now  — 
And  place  thy  hand  upon  my  marble  brow, 
And  press  me  tightly,  so  that  when  I  die, 
Through  all  eternity  I  will  feel  thee  nigh 
Still  pressing  in  that  attitude  of  love 

65 


Ll. 


:!llf 


THE  riro  BRIDES 


And  deep  regret.     Our  last  impressions  may 
Linger  on  our  souls  when  we  are  far  away, 
riiroughout  all  time,  even  to  the  judgment  day. 
My  soul  may  see  thee  always  by  my  side 
Out-pouring  thy  last  love-gem  e'er  I  ilied. 


We 


loose 


the 


What    tio    we    gain    by    death? 

world, 
All  that  we  know  and  love,  all  we  enjoy  — 
Our  home,  our  friends,  ambitions  and  delights. 
As  for  ourselves,  all  that  we  feel  and  see 
Returns  again  into  the  earth  and  air, 
To  make  the  sap  for  others  yet  to  come 
In   ages   far  extending  from  our  own. 
But  ah,  my  heart  is  fluttering,  I  have  grown 
Most  weary  and  exhausted,  and  my  life 
Is  ebbing  fast.      I  feel  my  very  soul 
Stealing  from  my  body  like  a  thief 
In  spite  of  all  your  sympathy  —  and  my  grief, 
And  all  my  strong  ambition  to  remain. 
Be  true  to  me  and  do  not  wed  again, 
For  up  in  Heaven  if  the  Lord  thinks  best 
I'll  wait  for  you  and  take  you  to  my  breast 
When  here  on  earth  they  lay  you  down  to  rest." 


Thus  died  she  full  of  hope,  though  with  regret, 
So  much  she  loved  her  husband  and  the  world. 

66 


THE  Tiro  BRIDES 

She  seemed  not  anxious  to  exchange  her  lot 
For  all  that  glory  of  the  future,  taught 
Atul  bla/oned  by  the  advocates  of  Heaven. 
A  gem  of  beauty  was  her  love  and  rare  — 
A  love  of  which  a  good  man  is  so  proud  — 
A  love  which  many  seek,  but  seek  in  vain. 
'I  hey  had  been  married  but  a  few  short  years, 
And  he  was  all  her  world  —  her  very  life, 
The  sun  rose  only  to  enhance  her  joy; 
They  lived  for  one  another  and  no  more. 
So  when  he  knew  her  soul  had  gone  to  rest, 
The    husband    clutched    the    lifeless    form,    and 

pressed 
It  tightly  to  his  bosom,  then  he  fell 
To  all  intent  as  lifeless  on  the  floor; 
The  joy  of  life  had  vanished  from  his  heart. 


His  days  crept  by  in  sorrow,  but  there  came 
A  beam  of  sunshine  to  his  soul  at  last, 
And  all  the  gloom-clouds  vanished  that  had  been 
Hovering  around  and  darkening  all  his  life. 
The  battle  was  not  over,   for  his  mind 
Was  clinging  to  the  memory  of  past  days 
Although  his  heart  was  waning  in  its  faith. 
This  caused  a  war  within  the  man  that  was 
Like  demon  fighting  angel  to  the  death. 

67 


THE  TffO  URIDES 


I 


lie  cursed  himself  tOr  wcakcni/i^  in  his  phm 

To  hold  one  wonian's  iiiuige  in  his  mind, 

And  sacrifice  all  pleasure  for  her  sake. 

One  day  he  kneeled  him  down   and  prayed    for 

strenj^th 
To  o\  erconic  his  weakness,  hut  the  man  — 
The  mortal  man  —  was  stronj^cr  than  his  will. 
His  wife's  sad  pleading;  lingered  in  his  brain  — 

Be  true  to  me  and  ilo  not  wed  again." 
But  he  had  had  enough  of  grief  and  pain, 
"  We  live  but  once,  why  should  we  live  in  vain?  " 
For  thus  he  argued  with  his  new  found  breath. 
So  while  his  former  faithful  wife  in  death 
Retained  the  last  impressions  of  his  grief, 
He  took  another  smiling  to  his  home; 
The  same  old  home  where  she  had  lived  and  died. 
But  all  her  love,  and  tears,  and  pleadings  wild 
Lay  in  his  bosom  with  the  foot  of  time 
Holding  them  under,  and  his  new  joy's  smile 
Killing  the  grief-pangs  that  would  fain  arise. 
She   was   worse   than   dead,    the   very   space   she 

claimed 
On  earth,  the  chair  she  occupied,  the  heart 
1  hat  loved  her  image,   now  were  occupied. 
And  filled  by  one  whose  every  act  and  smile 
Reduced  remembrance,  and  belittled  all 

68 


THE  Tlf'O  n RIDES 

Ilcr  once  Rrcat  charm,  her  virtie  and  her  love. 
But  he  was  morfl,  weak  in  mortal  ways, 
A  victim  to  tcm^'^tion  all  his  days. 
I  Ic  was  no  god-man,  perfect  and  immune 
Irom  human  ailments,  and  his  heort  was  soon 
Conquered  hy  the  world  joys,   ani   the  smiles 
That  mocked  him,  laughing  at  his  g'ief  and  tears. 
Anon  the  lountain  o(  his  tears  ga\e  way; 
His  first  lo\e's  image  had  been  washed  away. 
He  ceased  to  recollect  the  sweet,  kind  voice, 
'I"he  grace  of  form  that  once  had  been  his  choice, 
The  familiar  foot  step,  and  the  ready  smile, 
And  the  glad  laugh     hat  never  would  beguile. 
All  these  were  lost  amid  his  new-found  joys; 
Our  giddy  present  all  our  past  destroys. 
And  mid  the  sunshine  of  his  new-crowned  qi  ?en 
He  almost  thought  that  she  had  never  been, 
And  argued  that  if  God  had  saved  her  life. 
He  had  not  had  the  love  of  this  new  wife. 
So  she  was  worse  than  dead,  and  doubly  died 
When  he  she  worshiped  took  another  bride. 


6q 


A  Tale  Without  ar  End 

WHEN  the  hreezes  blow  and  the  branches 
bend 
This  is  a  st(— V  that  has  no  end. 
This  is  a  story  that  has  no  end 
When  the   wind  and  the  wave  and  the  weather 
blent'- 

This  is  a  story  that  ha?  no  enH 

Where  the  rivers  creep  and  thr  valleys  bend, — 

In  tne  wilds  where  Nature  has  no  rest, 

Where  the  grass  i^  greenest  —  flowers  are  best. 

When  the  lion  roars  and  the  tiger  springs, 
When  the  eagle  soars  and  the  sky-lark  sings, 
When  every  living  thing  that  rows 
Comes  —  and  buds  and  blooms  then  —  goes, 

When  Earth  revolves  and  the  sun's  hot  hand 
Fondles  the  surface  of  the  land. 
When  its  surface  cracks  and  its  luicleus  boils. 
When  the  wave  on  the  sea-shore  tears  and  toils, 


70 


A  TALE  WITHOUT  AN  END 

When  the  young  are  born  and  the  old  decay, 
When  the  deeds  of  decades  pass  away, 
When  these  Powers  wax  and  those  Powers  wend 
This  is  a  story  that  has  no  end. 

When  this  great  system  calied  our  own 
Describes    an   orbit  vast,    unknown 
With  a  hundred  thousand  seasons  bend, 
This  is  a  story  that  has  no  end. 


This  is  a  story  that  has  no  end 

When  the  breezes  blow  and  the  branches  bend. 

When  the  wind  and  the  wave  and  the  weather 

blend. 
This  is  a  story  that  has  no  end. 


Mary's  Holiday 

THE  other  tiiorning  mamrr.a  said, 
"  I'm  feeling  very  ill, 
So  you  can  stay  from  school  to-day 
And  help  me  if  you  will. 

"  And  this  can  be  a  holiday, 

And  teacher  wont  complain, 
For  what  you  lose  at  home  to-day 

To-morrow  you  will  gain." 

I  said,  "  I  will  be  very  glad 

To  help  you  all  I  can." 
And  down  to  school  with  all  my  might 

To  tell  the  girls,  I  ran. 

And  then  I  skipped  around  about 

As  proud  as  I  could  be; 
To  stay  at  home  the  live-long  day 

Was  apple  pie  for  me. 

And  then  I  washed  the  dishes  up, 
And  wiped  them  clean   and  dry. 

And   baked  a    cake,   and   mixed  the   bread, 
And  made  a  custard  pie. 
73 


MARY'S  HOLIDAY 

I  found  it  was  no  holiday 

To  stay  at  home  from  school; 

Because  you  have  to  sweep  the  floor, 
And  scrub  it,  as  a  rule. 

And  then  you  have  to  make  the  beds, 
And  shake  the  mats  as  well, 

And   you   must   brush   the   carpet  clean, 
Arrange  the  parlor  "  swell." 

To  clean   and  shine  the  kitchen  range 

About  an  hour  employs, 
'l^hen  you  must  get  the  dinner  on 

For  papa  and  the  boys. 

At  noon  the  girls  come  running  by. 
They  play  at  tag  and  ball; 

'  had  to  wash  the  dishes  up 
And  could  not  play  at  all. 

Yes,  yes,  I'd  rather  go  to  school, 

The  greatest  big  amount; 
To  speak  large  dislocated  words. 

And  learn  to  spell  and  count. 


73 


MARY'S  HOLIDAY 

I  often  vvontlcr  how  mamma 

lias   cooked    and   scrubbed   and   sewn; 
How  she  can  do  what  she  has  done, 

And  do  it  all  alone. 

To-day,   to-morrow,   every  day, 

I  have  a  lovely  plan, 
I'll  hurry  home  from  school  and  help 

My  Mamma  all  I  can. 


74 


I 


A  Gem 

F  you  arc  younp,  and  lone,  and  drear, 
And    ciny    others    their   gocjd    cheer; 


And  you  should  chance  to  know  a  flower 
I  hat   haunts   your    footsteps   every   hour, 

Who  blushes  as  you  pass  her  by; 

Who  takes  your  heart,  who  suits  your  eye, 

Just  bow  and   smile   and   say,   "  Ahem, 
Dear  blossom,  will  you  be  my  gem?" 

Then  work  and  wait;  be  kind  and  true 
Until  her  lips  arc  offered  you. 

Then  stoop  and  pull  her  root  and  stem, 
The  lo\-ely  flower,   the  precious  gem. 

For  this  is  one  the  ages  fleet 

Have  brought  .uid  cast  before  your  feet. 

A  gem  the  world  has  ored  and  grown. 
And  planned  for  you,   for  you  alone. 

75 


A  GEM 

One  primrose  to  thy  garden  sent, 
One  star  in  all  thy  firmament. 

So  press  her  to  your  great  big  heart, 
And  make  her  of  your  life  a  part. 

And  claim  her  root,  and  branch,  and  stem 
Thy  lovely  flower,  t^y  precious  gem. 

No  dream  so  sweet    no  gift  so  free, 
No  crown  so  full  of  dignity. 


76 


o 


Spring 

UR  Spring  Is  here,  I  knew  its  footsteps 
Running  along  the  king's  highway* 
Our  Spring  has  come,  I  hear  it  singing 
Over  the  smiling  banks  and  braes. 

I  know  it  is,   I  hear  its  voices 

I  know  them   in  a   hundred  ways; 

I  know  them  by  the  flowers  and  grasses 
Over  the  softening  banks  and  braes. 

The  gentle  winds  salute  the  mountains, 
The  yellow-bells  bud  out  and  bloom, 

The  tender  suns  caress  the  willows, 
The  very  cactus  sheds  its  gloom. 

And  birds  sing  sweeter,  leaves  are  cleaner. 
And  clouds  are  softer,  skies  are  clear. 

Flowers  are  purer,  grass  is  greener 
Than  any  time  throughout  the  year. 

And  trees  that  have  been  bleak  and  naked 
Are  now  by  magic  draped  in  green. 

And  birds  we  have  not  known  since  Autumn 
Again  upon  the  wing  are  seen. 
77 


Sl'RIS'C 

^'cs.  Spriiij^  has  come,   I  hear  it  walkini^ 
Softly  it  comes  o'er  all  the  hills. 

Yes,  Spring  has  come,  I  hear  its  music 
Rising  again  from  creeks  ani.1  rills. 


78 


To  Build  Ourselves  Anew 

IIl.W'I',   got  a   ikity   for  you   that  is  not   un- 
true,— 
\(ni  Diust  take  yourself  apart  and  build  yourself 

anew. 
There's  not  a  single  one  of  us  who  has  a  faultless 

plan, 
Because  it  takes  a  lot  of  goods  t(/  make  a  perfect 
man. 

(Jet  you  the  material  first  and  stack  It  all  around, 
And  sort  it  over  carefully  until  the  best  is  found. 
Then  you  must  take  the  damaged  parts  and  throw 

them  all  away, 
And  you  must  take  the  healthy  parts  and  build 

them  up  to  stay. 

Pick  cut  the  diamonds  from  the  dross,  the  honey 

from  the  bee, 
Choose  those  who  are  much  better  and  not  much 

worse  than  thee. 

don't  burrow  in  the 


Aspi 


ground, 


Reach  out  for  to  those  that  are  the  purest  to  be 


found. 


79 


TO  BUILD  OURSELl'ES  JXElf 

I'.vtry  oi  c   shouKl    be   acc()rii[ilishc(J   iti   a   certain 

way, 
Every  one  should  have  a  virtue  hnnnretl  in  their 

day, — 
Kvery  one  should  have  u  motive,  motive  of  their 

own, 
Every  one  should  have  a  tuning  in  a  special  tone. 

Our  life  is  like  a  tiny  flash  in  Time's  eternal  day, 
Beware  you  do  not  lose  it  all  or  give  it  all  away. 
Our  life  is  but  a  tiny  flame  that  may  be  dull  or 

bright, 
Beware  you  do  not  waste  it  all  or  put  it  out  of 

sight. 

"^'ou  must  dri\c  all  evil  out  and  take  all  \irt.ie  in. 
You  must  drive  all  vice  away  before  you  hope  to 

win. 
Nature   gives   you    flesh    and   bone,   a   body,    feet 

and  hands. 
But  docs  not  give  the  precious  goods  a  moral  life 

demands. 


80 


The  Cripple  and  the  Flower 

T  01  E  is  a  spontaneous  iliinj^ 
Lj      That  sprouts  without  a  seed  or  cell, 
J   j^oUIen    (loud  etnelopinjr 

The  black  and  beautiful  as  zLell. 

Once  in  a  woodland   fast  asleep 
A  cripple  lay  a  shapeless  heap. 

A  crooked,  ugly,  shapeless  man 
Without  one  method  in  his  plan. 

His  hrain  his  only  normal  part 
And  all   Dame  Nature  in  his  heart. 

He  dreamed  though  cripple  he  was  made 
Into  the  walks  of  life  he  strayed. 

Into  the  woodland  stream  afloat 
He  cast  his  crooked,  shapeless  boat. 

And  as  he  wandered  gayly  by, 
A  little  blossom  caught  his  eye. 

A  little  blossom  smiled  at  him 
From  sunlit  edge  of  river's  brim. 

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rilE  CRIPPLE  .IS'D  THE  ILOIfER 

A  little  tlowcr  with  eyes,  and  hair, 
And   lips,   and   cheeks   of   roses    fair. 

He   smiled,   and  many  smiles  it  gave 
Just  like  a  silver-crested  wave. 

Up  rose  his  spirits  like  a  dove, 
And  all  his  life  was  lit  with  love. 


ISs 


And  gladness  hrightened   all   his   days, 
And  all  his  garden  was  ablaze. 

"  Ah  mc,"  he  said,  "  who  spoke  untrue 
That  life  had  nothing  worth  in  view? 


I 


k^ 


ll 


"  To  be  as  happy  as  he  can 
Should  be  the  object  of  each  man, 

"  To  weave  a  web  of  purest  ray 
The  length   of   all   eternity. 

"  To  live  his  life  as  though  it  be 
And  leave  it  to  posterity. 

"  To  do  our  greatest  and  our  best. 
And  in  the  battle  know  no  rest. 

82 


uJ 


THE  CRIPPLE  ./YD  THE  FLOlfER 

"  7  hat  what  we  sow  may  thrive  and  bear 
When  we  are  water,  earth  and  air. 

"  What  this  reveals  —  reveals  us  tnie, 
Not  what  we  say,  but  what  we  do. 

"  To  know  the  truth  and  know  it  well, 
To  guard  the  truth  through  shct  and  shell, 

"  To  slay  the  semi-savage  part 
That  sticks  tenacious  to  the  heart. 

"  To  get  the  savage  in  control, 
And  have  it  severed   from  the  soul. 

"  To  look  on  death  as  though  it  be 
But  portal  to  eternity." 

And  then  he  turned  him  to  his  gem 
Still  blushing  sweetly  from  its  stem. 

"  O  gem  anions;  the  weeds  about 
That  seek  to  choke  thee  down  and  out, 


I  saw  thee  bud  and  bloom,"   he  cried, 
"  And  now  I  want  thee  in  thy  pride. 

83 


THE  CRIPPLE  ASD  THE  FLOWER 

"  I  want  thee  e'er  thy  purer  deeds 
Are  poisoned  by  the  clinging  weeds." 

And  then  he  stooped  to  pluck  his  own, 
Root,  and  stem,  and  branch  sweet  grown. 

Just  then  light  splashed  him  like  a  wave. 
And,  lo!  behold!  he  was  a  slave. 

The  sunshine  glimmered  from  the  East, 
And,  lo!  behold!  he  was  a  beast. 

The  truth  swept  by  on  noiseless  wing 
And  said,  "  you  are  a  shapeless  thing." 

With  one  deep  groan  he  backed  away, 
And  darkness  overspread  his  day. 

His  eyes  were  drowned  in  tears,  he  kneeled 
Like  wounded  soldier  on  the  field. 

And  all  the  light  forsook  his  bark, 
As  he  went  groping  in  the  dark. 


He  fell  to  earth  with  broken  wing, 
A  hopeless,  helpless,  stagnant  thing. 

84 


THE  CRIPPLE  JSD  THE  FLOlt'ER 

He  bit  the  dust  in  his  distress, 
And  cried  out  in  his  bitterness. 

"  O  thirst-man  fastened  to  a  tree 
By  a  sweet  river  running  free. 

"  A  primrose  by  the  wayside  lying, 
By  casual  footstep  crushed  and  dying. 

"  I'm  starving  in  the  sight  of  food, 
I'm   wandering  in  an   endless  wood. 

"  A  prisoner  in  a  burning  tree, 
Or  drowning  in  a  boundless  sea. 

"  O  fruit  I  dare  not  touch  or  taste 
O  treasure  in  my  desert  waste! 

"  O  angel  hovering  here  and  there 
Throughout  my  storm   infested  air! 

"  It  shames  me,  breaks  my  heart  to  live 
And  offer  what  I  cannot  give ! 


"  O  apple  on  the  topmost  limb, 
O  rose  on  furthest  river's  brim! 

85 


THE  CRIPPLE  ASD  THE  FLO  ITER 

"  ()  gem  in  deepest  ocean  bed, 
O  star  in  highest  overhead! 

"  So   I    must  pine   away  within 
And  sec  another  drink  thee  in. 

"  Must  smother  this  and  leave  thee  out 
Among  the  deadly  weeds  about. 

"  Or  must  T  watch  thy  fragrance  rise 
Up  from  thy  checks  and  lips  and  eyes 

"  To  brighten  others  with  their  light 
While  I  go  groping  in  the  night? 

"  O  make  me   free  or  give  thy  cause 

Thou  torturing  times,  thou  art-made  laws! 

"  O  make  me  well  or  strike  me  dead 
Thou  Nature  with  the  austere  head! 

"  Or  give  me  this  one  joy  then  cast 
My  gray-white  ashes  to  the  blast. 


"  Hold  me.  O,  thou  civil  laws 
Least  I  should  break  thy  thongs!     O,  pause 

86 


Till-:  CK1PPLI-:  ,IM)   THE  ILOlfER 

"  Wild  heart  that  surges   in   my  breast, 
Thou  untamed  beast  that  will  not  rest! 

"()  love  so  sweet,   why  hast  thou  stings? 
Why  teach  us  flight,  then  clip  our  wings?  " 

Then  blood  went  spouting  dart  by  dart 
I'rom  \ery  nucleus  of  his  heart. 

His  soul  went  ebbing  far  and  wide 
Like  slow,  receding  hopeless  tide. 

He  was  a  lifeless,  soulless  thing, 
He  was  a  bird  without  a  wing. 

Never  was  there  a  heait  so  torn. 
And  never  did  a  soul  so  mourn. 

ITe  wept  till  his  tears  ran  dry, 

Then  crept  away  and  groaned,  "  Good-by!  " 

For  love  is  n  spoutancnus  th'in^ 

That  sprouts  zvitJiont  a  seed  or  cell; 

A  golden   cloud  envelopino^ 

The  black  and  beautiful  as  tcell. 


87 


The  Renegade 

TT  Tf'.  cannot  love  jus  I  ivlicrr  lit'  may, 
WW        For  hearts  explode  and  /lame  unlearned. 
JTe   cannot   June   unbounded  sicay, 

U'liei:   hearts  of  others   are  concerned. 


Once  on  the  Eraser's  bank  and  brae 
A  lover  wandered  by  one  day, 


Seeking  for  that  which  many  seek; 
Seeking  a  thing  he  dare  not  speak. 

At  last  beneath  a  rugged  fir 
He  saw  a  girl  and  called  to  her. 

This  was  the  sweetheart  whom  he  fain 
Would  sin  and  sorrow  to  obtain. 

She  saw  him  come,  she  heard  him  speak, 

Her  head  dropped  down,  her  heart  grew  weak. 

'Twas  Mary  by  the  river's  brim 
Hanging  her  head  for  love  of  him. 

Again  he  pressed  her  in  his  pride, 
Then  harshly  pushed  her  from  his  side. 

88 


THE  RENEC.IDE 

He  cast  her  from  him  as  though  stung 
By  some  foul  serpent's  poison-tongue. 

"  What  have  I  done?      What  have  I  done? 
Of  shaine  or  honor  have  1  none?  " 

His  wife  he  thought  of  for  he  knew 
That  she  was  good,  that  she  was  true. 

Between  two  magnets  poised  he  stood, 
'l\vixt  love  and  duty,  had  and  good. 

"  What  shall  I  do,  what  shall  I  do? 
Die  in  the  stream  or  fly  with  you? 

"  Go  to  my  home  and  babies  two? 
Go  to  my  wife  so  good  and  true?  " 

"  My  sweetheart,"  spoke  the  maiden  sad, 
"  Think  of  our  love  that's  made  us  glad, 

"  That  we  have  found  so  grand  and  good, 
Our  only  hope,  our  only  food. 

"  Look  at  my  lips  and  eyes,  be  brav'e! 
Embrace  me,  take  me  for  thy  slave ! 

89 


77//;   RI:M.('  II^I- 
Then  sp..kc  the   false  one,  the  untrue: 
-  I  cannot,  dare  not  j^o  svitli  you. 

'■Think  of  the  sin  and  shame,  aivart        ^^ 
Yuun  ruined  hue  and  home  and  heart. 

Thus  in  his  soul  the  war  began, 
Thus  to  the  surface  rose  the  man. 

Thus  rose  he  to  the  duntreon  floor 
Though    wounded,   bleeding,   broken,   sore. 

He  faltered,  wavered,  turned  and  fled 
Down  the  long  path  that  homeward  led. 

The  garden  held  his  wife,  near  by, 
She  waved  her  hand  as  he  drew  nigh. 

His   babies  bv   the   river's  brim 
Ceasing  their  play  ran  swift  to  h.m. 

Never  was  man  so  much  ashamed, 
So  much  a  cur,  so  little  blamed. 

He  could  be  called  a  brute,  a  cur, 
A  c(n\ard  or  whatever  slur, 

90 


Till:  a: /:.\7x;. //)/-> 

Or  anything  'ncath  heaven  ahove, 
Yet  it  was  only  pure,  sweet  love. 

ITr    cauHol    love-    just    zclicrr    lir    "iny, 
I 'or  hear  Is  explode  nful  jlamr  unlcainfd, 

lie  liinnol  Ihiit'  Huhomuicd  sivay, 

II' hen  hearts  of  others  are  eoueenied. 


91 


The  Wild  Flower 

^ ^M  US  better  to  loic  and  live  alone 

J.  'ihau  licil  iind  ziiuiry  of  thy  Jicni; 

Jihl  bt'tter  thy  licarl  remain  iinktio'ivn 
Than  -icfar  a   li'ithcrcd  diadem. 

A  little  wild  flower  caught  his  eye 
As  he  went   wandering  weary  hy. 

'Twas  hut  a  little  wayward  gem 
Smiling  sweetly  from  its  stem. 

And  yet  that  hlossom  was  to  him 
The  sweetest  on  the  river's  brim. 

Strange  though   it  seems,  those  petals  say, 
"  Sir,  touch  me  not  and  keep  away." 

"  How  can  you  be  so  cold  and  dead 
And  I  so  full  of  fire,"  he  said. 


"  How  can  such  superficial  glow 
Conceal  so  hard  a  heart  below?" 

92 


Till,   nil  I)  I  Loll  IK 

"  Sir.   (1(1  not   [uill   mo    frdiii   riu    stcni 
Aiui  rol)  ttic  ri\  cr  of  a  ;.  'ni. 

"  Don't  tviu-  rnc   from   a  IkhI  so   fair 
But  ka\c  nic  i'l  the  sweet  fresh  air. 

"  I  lo\c  my  httle  f^rassy  Ih'cI 

l\ir  more  than  all  thy  gaiuiy  spread. 

"  I  !()\e   the   freeness  of  tiiy  way, 
The  starry  night,  the  sunny  day. 

"  A  shame  it  is  to  pull  a  gem 
Then  let  it  wither  on  its  stem!" 

And  so  his  love-bud  died  at  birth 

And  all  his  hopes  were  dashed  to  earth. 

So,  should  your  austere  fate  reveal 
To  you  a  blossom  so  unreal, 

Or  should  you  love  a  gem  so  fine 
That  fails  to  honor  thee  for  thine, 

Just  pass  it  with  a  little  groan. 
And  hold  the  secret  for  thine  own. 

93 


rilE  WILD  FLOn  ER 

And  love  it  in  thy  great  big  way, 
And  smile  in  passing  by,  and  say, 


'T'l;  better  to  love  and  live  alone 
Than  li-ed  and  iietiry  of  thy  gem; 

And  better  thy  heart  remain  unknov:n 
Than  zvear  a  zvithered  diadem. 


94 


The  Titanic 

YES,  all  the  world  is  one  to-day, — 
Is  weeping  with  one  bleeding  heart; 
Bemoaning  with  one  w(junded  mind, 
Its  kith  and  kin,  its  pride  in  art. 


Grief  comes  so  near  to  heart  and  home; 

Our  fathers,  mothers,  brothers,  wives, 
Kngulfed  in  reach  of  hand  and  eye. 

The  precious,  priceless  loves  and  lives. 

And  how  some  perished  none  can  tell. 

Perhaps  our  dearest  suffered  most. 
But  this  we,  mourning,  fear  and  know; 

They  perished,  heaven  knows  the  cost. 

But  from  the  darkness  comes  a  gleam, 
Eternal  on  the  ocean  wave  — 

Men  planning,  daring,  dying,  dead. 
The  woman  and  the  child  to  save. 

O  !  glorious  monument  to  man, 

Out  from  the  ocean's  bosom  thrust, 

All  writ  with  the  heroic  words 

"  The  women  and  the  children  first!  " 
95 


il 


THE  riTJMC 

In  mourning  at  one  common  tomb, 
Yes,  all  the  world  is  one  to-day. 

All   blood,    and  caste,   and   faith  dissolved 
Like  one  large  widowed   family. 


I 

1 
1 1 


96 


Dreadnaught 

SPIvAK    thou    blood   of    Alfred,    take    up    the 
sword  anew, 
Get  the  edges  tempered,  send  out  the  brave  and 

true. 
Point  thy   guns  to   seaward,   let  them  howl   and 

roar, 
And   forge  the  boiling  Goth  with   fetters  to  his 
native  shore. 

Every  generation  has  an  issue  of  its  own. 

And    this   is    thy   problem    and   is   very   modeni 

grown. 
Edward  has  the  Germans,  Great  Alfred  had  the 

Danes; 
The  Saxons  had  the  courage  but  the  British  have 

the  brains. 

Teach  thy  guns  thy  English,  let  them  speak  it  to 

and  fro. 
Read  the  bold  aspirants  all  you  have  and  know. 
Read  them  the  Armada,  and  read  the  grand  and 

true, 
Read  to  them  Napoleon  and  the  fall  at  Waterloo. 

97 


r^ 


DRIUDS'.IUCIIT 

All  along  thy  frontier  place  thy  sword  and  gun, 
And  keep  thy  strength  behind  them  till  the  task  is 

done. 
Thy  nation  is  a  piece  of  land  surrounded  by  the 

sea, 
Save  thy  isolation,  save  it  for  thine  and  thee. 

And  should  the  tempest  come  too  strongly  let  this 

thought  appease, 
There  are  willing  hearts  and  arms  out  across  the 

seas. 
They  can  send  a  Dreadnaught  —  send  thee  ships 

and  men, 
They  took  with  thee  the  Transvaal,  they  can  fight 

again. 

Speak  thou  blood  of  Alfred,  take  up  the  sword 

anew. 
Get  the  edges  sharpened,  .end  out  the  brave  and 

true. 
Point  thy   guns  to  seaward,   let  them  howl  and 

roar. 
And  forge  the  boiling  Goth  with   fetters  to  his 

native  shore. 


98 


Success 

JUST  one  to  make  his  mark  and  pass  — 
To  have  his  laurel  wreaths  unfurled, 
Be  just  :'s  high  above  the  mass 

As  stars  are  high  above  the  world? 


P 

I 

I 


Or  must  he  pave  his  way  with  gold? 

Or  must  he  beg  or  buy  or  steal? 
Nay,  droop  not  down,  the  Howers  unfold 

Though  footsteps  tread  them  toe  and  heel. 

Let  failures  be  the  stepping  stones 
That   lead   to    bigger,   better  things. 

Let  errors  be  the  knives  and  hones 
That  serve  to  cut  our  fetterings. 

Let  tears  be  little  drops  of  rain 

That  wet  our  weary  gardening. 
Let  every  sorrow  be  a  gain 

Against  our  foes  unpardoning. 

For  many  who  are  world-wide  know  — 
Many  who  have  won  with  cheers, 

Have  under  mountain  pressure  grown. 
Have  wet  their  garden  with  their  tears. 

99 


i 


SUCCESS 

So  labor  at  thy  secret  art. 

Let  not  one  moment  idle  rest; 
7  hen,  if  yon  fail,  you  know  at  heart 

That  you  have  done  your  very  best. 


lOO 


I 


The  Traitor 

N  Vernon,  where  the  skies  are  hltjc, 
The  air  is  dry,  the  clouds  are  few, 


Stood  Mary  at  the  garden  gate 

She  watched  full  early,  watched  full  late. 

Watching  for  one  she  dared  not  see 
Out  in  the  village  openly. 

At  last  her  eager,  longing  eye 
Perceived  a  person  drawing  nign, 

Just   from   the  village  buildings    free  — 
Her  heart  beat  out,  "  'Tis  he!  'tis  he!  " 

He  saw  her  In  the  garden  stand. 

He  went  to  her  and  waved  his  hand. 

They  met,  and  love  was  never  told 
With  greater  truth,  with  firmer  fold. 

Said  Mary,   "  Crouch  and  hide  with  me. 
The  sand  has  eyes,  the  stones  can  see, 

lOI 


HIE  TRAITOR 

"  And  all  thof;  windows  far  and  near 
Have  eyes  and  cars,  they  sec  and  hear.' 

Then  spoke  the  traitor,  "  Art  av/are 
'i'hut  all  in  love  and  war  is  fair? 

"  I  came  to  take  a  last  farewell, 
To  leave  this  heart  a  shattered  shell. 

"  To  leave  this  purse,   for  daily  need, 
I'll  be  your  friend  in  word  and  deed. 

"  I  gave  you  all  I  had  to  give  — 

All  I  could  spare  from  life  —  and  live. 

"  Look  out  around,  about,  above. 
See    all   the   dear  things  that   I   love, 

"  This  house,  and  that,  the  other  one. 
The  old,   the   new,   that  just  begun, 

"  The  lanes,   the  avenues,  the  street 
My  little  cottage-home   retreat. 


"  The  sand,  the  sage,  the  hills  unsung, 
That  you  and  I  have  grown  among. 

102 


THE  TRAITOR 

'■  And  all  the  dear  familiar  things 
My  heart  admires,  to  which  it  clings. 

"  The  good,  the  great,  the  grand,  the  true, 
Anil   I  must  leave  them  all  —  and  you. 

"  Yes,  I  must  pass  from  all  I  know, 
The  hills  ahovc,  the  stream  below." 

Two  hearts  expanded,  eyes  grew  dim. 
He  wept  for  her,  she  wept  for  him. 

If  weeping  would  but  cure,   if  pain 
Would  fall  with  tear-drops  from  the  brain! 

They  parted  —  pain  was  never  sung 
When   love  was   cruel  —  both   were   young. 


103 


I 


The  Aspirant 

DKI'.AMIT)  I  stood  within  the  lainc  dcckcil 
hall 

Trying  to  write  w\  nainc  upon  the  wall. 
The  peneil  would  not  mark,  hut  passed  in  vain 
Like  a  dull  ohject  on  a  polished  plain. 
Anil  not  a  mark  was  left  to  tell  to  all 
That  one  had  stru^^^ded  to  inscrihe  his  name. 
I  saw  a  thousand  others  at  the  j2;aine  — 
Some  wrote  (]uite  easy,  others  tried  in  vain. 
Some  wrote  for  n.oney,  others  wrote  tor  fame. 
.And  whether  'twas  the  nature  of  the  pen, 
Their  mode  of  writing,  or  the  way  they  held 
The  instrument,  I  could  by  no  means  tell; 
But  some  wrote  smiling  with  apparent  case 
A  name  that  could  be  seen   from  every  part 
Of  the  great  wide  hall.     Others  scratched  away 
iMrst  here  then  the  re,  and,  weeping  in  dismay 
They  changed  their  pencil — tried  to  change  their 

way 
Of  writing  letters,  but  of  no  avail. 
The  floor  was  wet  with  tears  of  those  who  tore 
In  bitter  disappointment  from  the  door. 
The  others  smiled  but  would  not  tell  the  plan 

104 


THE  JSI'IR.IST 

By  wliicli  they  overcame  the  ohstinatc  wall. 

I  saw  the  preat  ones  of  our  time.      I  watched 

How  easily  they  re^ristereil,  and  I  tried 

l"o  mimic  them,  hut  still  without  succ  ss. 

I  saw  the  names  of  ones  lot.g  dead,  whose  work 

Survived  their  mortal   span  of  life;   I   howeil 

My  head  in  reverence  to  the  same,  and  watched 

Ajrain  the  favored  ^rpcat  ones  of  our  day. 

1  hey  drew  my  admiration.      I   adored 

Their  style  and  manners,  hut  I   was  too  weak 

lo  follow  in  their  steps  or  j^Min  their  ranks. 

I   saw  again  with  sympathetic  heart 

The  tear-stained  hopeless  rushing  from  the  door. 

I  wept  and  dropped  my  pencil  to  the  floor 

And  joined  the  hitter  torrent — then 

I  humbly  wrote  a  trih     e  to  great  men. 


I 


THE  END 


105 


